It always began with pizza twice a week in Langdon Hall.
A construction company would come in and talk about itself for an hour. Students sat around eating pizza while someone at the front clicked through slides. The companies kept track of who asked questions, who paid attention.
Sometimes, they took a few students out for drinks that night.
Interviews the next day.
Job offers followed. At least, that’s what my classmates told me.
I’d been to dozens of presentations. Interviewed with dozens of companies.
Always nothing.
This time, it was an electrical contractor. Power lines. Industrial work.
The interview was already wrapping to a close.
“Thank you for your time.”
The interviewer stood up.
I shook his hand.
Then I pushed the door open to leave, nodding to the next interviewee wearing a suit and tie, already sitting on the bench outside.
I smiled.
“Good luck.”
His shoes were shinier than mine.
An email arrived on Monday.
“We’d like you to come and interview at our headquarters. An intern will be in touch with you shortly with the details.”
~
My train from Chico left while it was still dark.
My girlfriend dropped me off at the station.
“Ask if they have an office in the Bay Area.”
“Hmm?”
“I just can’t move to LA.”
“Your family?”
“Just ask, will you?”
The rails began to hum beneath us. A low rumble grew louder down the track.
“I will.”
She kissed me goodbye.
I boarded the train.
In Sacramento, I took a city bus to the airport. Then a flight to Ontario. I rented a car and drove to the company’s headquarters.
It was past lunch when I arrived.
More executives than I’d expected sat around a table.
A blond-haired man stood as I entered.
“We’re so happy to have you.”
He pointed to the older gentleman who had interviewed me the week before.
“I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Thanks.”
I shook his hand as my face warmed.
“Now, before we get too far into the interview, I’d like to show you a quick presentation of who we are and what we do.”
He paused.
“The position we’re offering. This is a formality, really.”
The projector flickered on behind him.
A helicopter hung low over a forest, its rotors blurred against the trees. A row of power lines snaking off-screen.
“We service industrial power distribution systems. Transmission towers and high-voltage lines. Sometimes, the only way to reach them is by helicopter.”
I looked at the screen.
“Is that here? It doesn’t look like LA.”
He laughed.
“This picture is Alaska, I believe.”
He turned to the woman beside him.
“This was your project, right?”
She nodded.
“Yes, Alaska. But your job will be all over. We have a spot for you in Colorado now. A few weeks to a few months there, then on to the next place. For a few years at least.”
He gave me a salary range. More than I’d expected.
“Of course, all your housing is paid for, too.”
He leaned back.
“It’s a wonderful opportunity.”
The helicopter remained on the screen.
Then the presentation ended, and the questions began.
I don’t remember what they asked.
I remember the table, the projector light, the men and women sitting across from me.
And my girlfriend, Dani, standing at the train station.
“Ask if they have an office in the Bay Area.”